“…Oh heavens! The voice coming from that young bard is just enchanting. Almost started to tear I, I did. Have you ever heard such beautiful sounds coming from someone so young?”, the elderly woman Adelaide commented to her friend Margaret. Her eyes closed, and lost in the reverie of what they heard earlier that evening, Margaret responded, “Most indeed Adelaide, most indeed indeed.”

The two women had recently spent the early evening hours visiting the Conservatory of Music in Britain, always willing to lend their ears and their applause to the young practicing musicians and bards that worked at improving their musical skills hours on end. For the two aged retired women, it was a peaceful way to pass the time away from the usual boredom of home. After the Conservatory of Music closed its doors for the evening, the two women decided to share a sip of tea atop the peaceful rooftop of West Britain Bank.

Adelaide covered her mouth as she had a coughing fit and then soothed her sore throat with a smooth drink of tea. Drawing in a deep relaxing breath, she found herself crinkling her nose. Her nostrils suddenly overcome with a foul odor in the air. “You smell it too, hmm?” Margaret spoke, “I noticed that awful stench too as soon as we sat down a short while ago. Makes me wonder if perhaps Britain’s sewers are backing up?”

The corner of Adelaide’s mouth twitched and then formed a smile as she retorted, “Sewers? Not this time. Were you not paying attention earlier to what the young minstrels were giggling and talking about while they had a break between songs? You really ought to pay more attention to the children Margaret. They say the most astonishing things sometimes! I overheard one say of the boys say that he spotted a gargoyle in Britain this last weekend who surrounded the entire West Britain Bank with fish, fish, and more fish! Some foolish nonsense about the fish circle acting as a protective ward against Virtuebane. I guess children will say anything for attention these days.”

Margaret looked on with little concern, finding the stories children tell sometimes to be exaggerated or even made up. “Speaking of strange things, a stranger said something to me the other day that made my skin crawl, and it weren’t of no child neither!”, Margaret’s eyes widened and her voice lowered as she continued. “ I was sitting in the East Side Park two mornings ago here in Britain, feeding the birds as I usually do when someone strolled by and said to me, “Not sure I would be sitting out here all alone if I were you, ma’am. Not trying to give you cause for worry, but… queer rumors going round about crazed townsfolk wandering Britain of late. Running around like madmen and madwomen, clawing at themselves and pulling out their own hair. Even heard that two crazed townsfolk attacked a stray dog, killing it by driving a knife into the poor dog’s belly. When someone approached so see what happened, the crazed lunatics started chasing the innocent passerby, snarling as they went as if having lost all their wits and sense! I advise you, be careful out here all alone. Strange things brewing.” A look of anxiety crossed over Adelaide’s face as she set down her cup of tea, “Rumors, is all they are woman! Rumors. The man probably just had too many drinks that morning at the Salty Dog and was more drunk than a sailor at port.”

Adelaide offered up a rumor of her own she recently heard, “Speaking of taverns, Marg. Robert told me he was having a drink at the Cat’s Lair yesterday when he overheard one of the bar wenches talking about a giant sized demon that was growling and causing all kinds of ruckus until the barkeep, Tirion Mograine, and one of the town guards wrestled it back outside the tavern. This demon weren’t one of those little frisky goblins or Yattering often found around Britain neither, but something large and ferocious!”

The two old women finished the rest of their tea in silence as they quietly watched people come and go around West Britain Bank. When they were finished, both women got up slowly and headed home. Before parting ways, Adelaide spoke again, “Margaret my dear. You almost had me with that frightening tale about crazed townsfolk attacking animals and chasing after people for no good reason. Almost, but not quite.” The two friends hugged warmly and went off their separate ways. Margaret thought to herself as she walked home, “I hope the stranger that told me that chilled tale was as drunk as Adelaide thinks. Perhaps it best that I will skip visiting the East Side Park tomorrow morning, just in case. Just in case.”

I wonder what could possess a gargoyle to think a circle of fish would protect a bank from a virtue bane attack. Being that gargoyles are considered 'mystical' and 'wise' etc.. etc...

Click to expand...

Gargoyles are only considered mystical and wise by the other gargoyles. Any human who has had more than a fleeting contact with these glorified fruitbats knows them to be aggressively stupid, arrogant, vain, intolerant, temperamental, and superstitious; they are incapable of running a sewing circle, let alone a kingdom, and are wont to drop their responsibilities and cry for the aid of already-beleagured allies the moment that some half-baked lunatic writes an unfavourable prophecy about them. Any idiot can write a prophecy. I can write one now.

The Fate of Britain
As foretold by Lindae

The iron Northman will stride forth
And strike Britain to its core
His bristling brows and steely voice
Seducing every dockyard wh-... Handalf
The men take to their beds and weep
Their paltry goods unsold
While their women throw themselves as one
At Nicholas the Old.

Just because it is written does not mean that it's going to happen, you moronic bloody gargoyles.

Tangent aside - I believe that if the gargoyles are going to start being hysterical in public and wiping their dirty psychoses all over the good wingless citizens of Britannia, they should be deported. It is not our place to burden ourselves any further with the dregs of Ter Mur. They have already cost us enough. Send them back to the Abyss. Or give them to the town guards to handle; they show a distinct pleasure in beating the life out of harmless madmen.

The human ones, I do not know how to handle. But perhaps we should dress them up in felt animal costumes, release them in the grounds of the castle and sell tickets.

(OOC: I do not share my character's view of the mentally ill, women, immigrants, or Nicholas)

Stratics Veteran

Gargoyles are only considered mystical and wise by the other gargoyles. Any human who has had more than a fleeting contact with these glorified fruitbats knows them to be aggressively stupid, arrogant, vain, intolerant, temperamental, and superstitious; they are incapable of running a sewing circle, let alone a kingdom, and are wont to drop their responsibilities and cry for the aid of already-beleagured allies the moment that some half-baked lunatic writes an unfavourable prophecy about them. Any idiot can write a prophecy. I can write one now.

The Fate of Britain
As foretold by Lindae

The iron Northman will stride forth
And strike Britain to its core
His bristling brows and steely voice
Seducing every dockyard wh-... Handalf
The men take to their beds and weep
Their paltry goods unsold
While their women throw themselves as one
At Nicholas the Old.

Just because it is written does not mean that it's going to happen, you moronic bloody gargoyles.

Tangent aside - I believe that if the gargoyles are going to start being hysterical in public and wiping their dirty psychoses all over the good wingless citizens of Britannia, they should be deported. It is not our place to burden ourselves any further with the dregs of Ter Mur. They have already cost us enough. Send them back to the Abyss. Or give them to the town guards to handle; they show a distinct pleasure in beating the life out of harmless madmen.

The human ones, I do not know how to handle. But perhaps we should dress them up in felt animal costumes, release them in the grounds of the castle and sell tickets.

(OOC: I do not share my character's view of the mentally ill, women, immigrants, or Nicholas)

Click to expand...

But, you must admit that gargoyles are vastly superior to humans in regards to fishing ! They have those elongated talons on their feet. And they do have mysticism. Although it puts me off that the gargoyle language lacks a word for mystic, or mysticism!

But, you must admit that gargoyles are vastly superior to humans in regards to fishing ! They have those elongated talons on their feet. And they do have mysticism. Although it puts me off that the gargoyle language lacks a word for mystic, or mysticism!

Click to expand...

The Gargoyle language, much like the people themselves, is lacking in many respects. Its only value is in its linguistic proximity to the Old Speech of Ilshenar, a far more beautiful and sadly superceded language that now lives on only in runes and a select few long-lived individuals. But I digress. What I am saying is that Gargoyles are terrible in every way.

I have never seen a gargoyle fish using the birdlike method that you imply, alas. They seem to prefer the cumbersome human stick-and-string technique. For such an allegedly advanced people, they certainly seem well-content to rest on their technological laurels and make do with unwieldy, inefficient human equipment. If they were to put their intimidating mental powers to use, they would foreseeably improve life for us all and thus earn their keep in Britannia; but for some reason known only to themselves, they prefer not to.

I hate gargoyles.

On a different note, perhaps this new influx of lunatics would be a sensible time for Britannia to consider putting a system in place for their containment? The great Malas cities have institutions for the mad that have stood for centuries already, to the benefit of both the public and the tragically afflicted individuals. Britannia does not even have public infirmaries. Such an ill-prepared nation brings these constant trials upon itself by its apathy. You don't see Umbra being overrun by the mentally deranged, do you?

Stratics Veteran

The Gargoyle language, much like the people themselves, is lacking in many respects. Its only value is in its linguistic proximity to the Old Speech of Ilshenar, a far more beautiful and sadly superceded language that now lives on only in runes and a select few long-lived individuals. But I digress. What I am saying is that Gargoyles are terrible in every way.

I have never seen a gargoyle fish using the birdlike method that you imply, alas. They seem to prefer the cumbersome human stick-and-string technique. For such an allegedly advanced people, they certainly seem well-content to rest on their technological laurels and make do with unwieldy, inefficient human equipment. If they were to put their intimidating mental powers to use, they would foreseeably improve life for us all and thus earn their keep in Britannia; but for some reason known only to themselves, they prefer not to.

I hate gargoyles.

On a different note, perhaps this new influx of lunatics would be a sensible time for Britannia to consider putting a system in place for their containment? The great Malas cities have institutions for the mad that have stood for centuries already, to the benefit of both the public and the tragically afflicted individuals. Britannia does not even have public infirmaries. Such an ill-prepared nation brings these constant trials upon itself by its apathy. You don't see Umbra being overrun by the mentally deranged, do you?

Click to expand...

Well maybe the gargoyles do not see benefit to their selves by improving your way of life, because then they would have nothing to offer and find their selves in strait jackets. As far as Umbra is concerned it is full of mentally deranged necromancers and the sorts of people who claim to talk to the dead.

Well maybe the gargoyles do not see benefit to their selves by improving your way of life, because then they would have nothing to offer and find their selves in strait jackets. As far as Umbra is concerned it is full of mentally deranged necromancers and the sorts of people who claim to talk to the dead.

Click to expand...

I am not suggesting that we straitjacket the competent gargoyles, merely that we restrain the demented ones that are currently paving the streets with rotting seafood. You fool. For those with a firm grasp of reality - in as much as these addled-pated cloud-worms can ever have a firm grasp of reality - I recommend swift deportation if they will not give up their secrets. They are benefitting nobody but themselves by imposing on Britannia, a besieged realm lacking the resources to extend charity to every disenfranchised race that bays at its doors for (unnecessary!) refuge.

And what is that you say about Umbra?! You swine! You outright swine! How dare you disparage my noble homeland in such a way! I'LL KILL YOU!

Stratics is the oldest continually running MMORPG Fansite on the Internet. Founded in 1997 Stratics has served the Ultima Online Community for 18 years. We strive to provide the most complete social experience for Ultima Online players.